Starbucks
by ForeverRio
Summary: Craig really should have been prepared to deal with the consequences of buying Starbucks when his boyfriend owns a coffee company. Or at least, he should've been smart enough to get rid of the evidence. Creek drabble.


I was fishing through my documents, and found this. So I edited over and figured I might as well put it up.

This story does in fact have 'Fuck' in it. It's Craig. It's expected. You want me to raise the rating that's fine, just tell me.

Disclaimer; I'll tell ya when I make progress in owning any fandom or series.

YOU KNOW-constructive criticism is **DA BOMB**! So are reviews, but CC just wins over all!

* * *

Craig had never seen Tweek mad before. He hadn't thought his blonde was capable of being mad.

Yet here Tweek Tweak was. In the typical 'angry wife' stance. Arms crossed, one hip cocked. A glare painted on his face. Worse, he didn't stutter when he was angry.

Craig knew he was consciously refusing to allow himself to stutter, but it was still scary for his boyfriend not to sound freaked out. Sounds bad, but that was Tweek's normal voice. The freaked out one. Anything different meant something was wrong.

In this case, something was very wrong.

Craig guilty eyed the cup in his hands '_Dammit, should've rid myself of the evidence when I had the chance!' _then looked up at his boyfriend's face. "Tweek, I can explain!"

An eyebrow rose. "Oh really?" The blonde hissed. "Let's hear it then."

Craig attempted to buy time by coughing. Man, where was a _Twix _bar when you needed one? _'Ok Craig.' _Craig thought trying to calm himself down_. 'This is nothing to freak out about. Just come up with a nice, reasonable explanation. Your car was hijacked and they forced you. It broke down and to survive this cold weather you had to go in!'_

"I'm waiting, Craig."

Man! Craig looked at Tweek and flinched. "Alright, alright. I'll tell the truth." Mother always did say that if you told the truth, you got in less trouble. Of course she just wanted Craig to admit he'd been stealing her Vodka. It was the same principle though, right?

Well. No going back now.

Maybe a half truth would work?

Craig coughed to clear his throat. "We passed one in the mall, and Clyde just had to go in. He insisted I get something because he didn't want to look like a pussy. It was his fault, I swear!"

Not entirely, but close enough to the truth. Take that mom!

Tweek fumed. Craig was honestly surprised he couldn't see smoke coming off him. "Don't blame this on Clyde! You and I both know he wouldn't do that!"

Somewhere, Craig knew his mother was laughing.

Craig eyed the empty cup in his hand once more. Stupid Mocha-Carmel-skimmed-Latte'!

"Okay, so maybe I was the one who dragged us in. It's really not my fault though! Have you smelled these things? It's like they melted chocolate and blended it to perfection. They set you up to! With those free samples! And everything smells so good; I couldn't walk by and not get something. Not with that smell. That smell Tweek! Circling my nose!"

Tweek huffed. His own eyes narrowed as he eyed the traitorous item Craig held. "You know what this means Craig."

Craig flinched. He didn't really knew what it meant, mostly because he'd never actually seen Tweek this pissed. He hoped whatever it was; it'd lead to hot make up sex.

Tweek stormed over. He grabbed the cup, glared at it for a good minute, before crushing it. The plastic that fell to the ground was happily meet with Tweek's foot. He stomped on it for a good 'nother minute before getting back to Craig.

"You are a traitor to my family! A traitor Craig! If I told my parents about this, they'd shun you forever. And do you know how traitors redeem themselves?"

Tweek was nose to nose with his boyfriend now.

Craig gulped. "Uh, good behavior?"

"No." Tweek got closer. Craig would've said it was hot if his life wasn't in danger. "You are going to help me sabotage the enemy. Prove yourself to your side! You are going to crush them like the corporate run bugs that they are!"

'_Oh my God. Tweek has a backbone!' _Craig's eyes were wide; he was starting to feel faint. This was unreal. Someone had to be playing a prank on him. His Tweek wasn't suggesting he trash a _company,_ was he?!

"Tweek, I think you're taking this a bit far-"

Tweek jammed a finger against Craig's chest. "I'm taking this too far? You've gone and done the worst possible thing in the world, and_ I'm_ the one who's over-reacting!?"

"Yes?"

"_No!" _Craig's back hit a wall. He'd been slowly edging toward the door, but apparently his backwards-walking wasn't the best. He'd missed it by about four feet. Tweek was almost salivating he was so angry. "You will clear yourself by killing the enemy! And you'll do it by yourself," Tweek added in a slightly calmer tone, "Because if I vandalized a building I might get arrested. If the police show up I might get shot! I can't get shot!" Realizing he was losing his angry edge to paranoia, Tweek shook his head. "When you're done, you will help out in the store!"

Craig nodded. "Y-yeah."

"Tomorrow night." Though Tweek wasn't eye-level to Craig (even on his tip-toes) he still managed to look menacing. The spastic twitches helped.

"Tomorrow night." Craig agreed. Tweek stared into his eyes a little longer, before twirling on his heel and storming to their bedroom. The door whirled behind him, smashing against the frame.

"Guess that means I'm sleeping on the couch." Craig sagged off the door, then glared at the stomped-upon cup. Stupid frickin' _Starbucks._

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Craig couldn't believe he was doing this. He couldn't believe the amount of paint Tweek had made him buy, or even the enormous super-soaker.

How he was supposed to vandalize a Starbucks building with a _super soaker,_ he didn't know. Spraying paint like this was _so_ seventh grade. Hell, he hadn't _touched_ a super soaker since seventh grade! His paintball gun was just so much more…_manly._

At the same time Craig was glad. Tweek avoided trouble like the plague, so when it came to causing it the blonde was lost. His ideas of "destroying the enemy" had proven to be nothing more than spray some paint via the super soaker. If the thing even sprayed. Craig didn't know if the newer models could even shoot paint.

Whatever. As long as it made Tweek happy.

'_Another downside,'_ Craig reflected as he approached the Starbucks. '_Is that Tweek made me wear all black. I look like a damned criminal._' (We're overlooking Craig's rather long rep sheet and pretending he actually isn't a criminal.)

Honestly, Craig was hoping no one was nearby. Not so much because he didn't want to get caught, though that was a part of it. He hadn't been arrested for tagging a building in years; he didn't have the artistic talents for it. Not to mention, the officers who made his arrest would laugh so hard he could probably slink away before he was noticed.

It wouldn't do any good, the police kept firm track of where Craig lived. There goes ignoring that rep sheet.

No. Craig was _embarrassed._

He was pretty sure Benny and Len were on duty tonight. If he got caught, they'd never let him live it down. (Craig, sadly, knows the majority of the police by now. As well as when each team is on duty.) They'd spread Craig's latest arrest around the office. The police wouldn't stop pestering him for weeks!

It certainly didn't help that the police also knew Craig's relationship with Tweek. Hey, small towns an' all. Tweek was also the one who tended to pick him up from jail now-a-days. Craig hadn't actually been _arrested_ for anything in a little over a year, which in all honesty made matters worse.

See, Tweek had made him promise the last time he was arrested that he'd never do anything to get himself arrested again. And because the damn blonde had some seriously weird hold over Craig, he simply couldn't refuse.

He promised. In front of all the local officers.

Craig mentally groaned. He couldn't get caught.

"Tweek, do I have to do this?"

Craig could've sworn the answering "Yes." sounded satanic.

____________________________________________________________________________________

"Craig, you're under arrest for violation of-"The sentence was cut off by poorly concealed laughter. Ron took a deep breath and tried again. "Violation of tagging a Star-star-I can't do this!"

Craig glared at the older man from his place opposite the desk. "Just take my damn fingerprints." He said. "I know what I'm under arrest for_."' Stupid fucking Tweek and his stupid fucking plans and stupid FUCKING Starbucks!'_

The door to the interrogation room (if you called the small closet they were in an interrogation room. Craig could've sworn they stuck a desk in here just to piss him off further.) swung open. Another officer stepped in, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm sure you're aware," Len started, "That you're boyfriend tipped us off to your activities tonight." 'Activities' was said with a giggle that was far too high for someone of Len's weight. Craig promptly told him so.

The officer didn't take offense. His grin did get bigger, though. "Tweek has also paid your bail as well as the fines you owe. You're free to go Mr. Tucker." Craig leapt to his feet, eager to get out. As he pushed past Len, the officer laughed. "Please refrain from vandalizing any more _Starbucks_, alright?"

He flipped Len off.

Craig stormed out to the main room of the station. Ignoring the fact he was the cause of the sudden explosion of laughter, he walked to a waiting Tweek.

His blonde was standing near the information desk, foot tapping, arms crossed. His face told Craig however, that he had been forgiven_. 'I better damn well be at least_. Craig caught himself thinking. '_If it gets out Tweek set me up and I let him get away with it, my reputation as a badass will disappear faster than Stan and Kyle did.' _

The two lovers had run off to Las Vegas last year, to get married. They'd then relocated to New York and refused to listen to any pleas for them to return, when everyone in South Park finally managed to track them down. Craig honestly couldn't blame them.

"What have we learned?" Tweek asked.

Craig mumbled his answer as he retrieved his items from the holding desk. Which doubled as the information desk, the front desk, and any other type of desk you could think of.

Tweek's eyes narrowed slightly. "Say it louder."

Craig sighed, turning to face his boyfriend. "Don't buy from _Starbucks."_ He said, defeated.

The laughter that followed the two out of the police station would haunt Craig's dreams for the rest of his life. Or at the very least, the rest of the year.

Forgive the crappy ending. I re-wrote it a few times, but meeeh. R&R please?


End file.
